


His Own Venom

by Laur



Series: Rattle Me All Night Long [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Body Swap, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Fluff and Smut, Love, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex with Snake Form Crowley (Good Omens), only swapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laur/pseuds/Laur
Summary: Aziraphale wanted to make Crowley feel good. Crowley wanted to feel good and wanted to make Aziraphale happy for making him feel good. He'd never slept with a snake, though. He'd alwaysbeenthe snake.[Aziraphale gives Crowley a taste of his own venom.](This follows my fic 'Rattle me all night long'. You don't have to read that first to enjoy this, but if you enjoy this, I promise you'll like the prequel too.)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Rattle Me All Night Long [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888474
Comments: 32
Kudos: 308





	His Own Venom

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually going to be a bonus chapter to 'Rattle me all night long' but it got way too long haha

Crowley could pull off a lot of looks. From togas to top hats, business suits to skinny jeans and even the odd nanny skirt, he’d worn it all and looked _damned_ good. Any era, any gender, Crowley knew fashion.

Looking at himself now, at his face straining, mouth pinched, forehead wrinkled, he realized the one look he couldn’t pull off was constipation.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said with Aziraphale’s voice and crossed Aziraphale’s arms. 

Sulphur yellow eyes flashed open to glare at him. It was very disconcerting, like looking at a reflection that had developed a mind of its own. “Perhaps if you _explained_ —”

“I _told_ you, you just sort of,” he made a wavy hand gesture, “melt into it. It’s my natural state, after all.”

Aziraphale’s huff was nasally; Crowley’s corporation wasn’t used to huffing. “Hardly your _natural_ state. If we’re going to be accurate, you were an angel first.”

“Maybe we should just swap back.”

“No! I can do it. I _want_ to.”

Crowley wanted to, too. That was why they were in his apartment and Crowley was lounging on his bed while Aziraphale dithered in front of him. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it _properly_ , bless it, not on that ancient, spring-loaded, dust-covered abomination Aziraphale called a mattress. He’d even manifested some candles for romantic lighting. But the last time they had swapped corporations had been very much not a sexy situation. Crowley was starting to worry it wasn't going to be this time either. 

Aziraphale wanted to make Crowley feel good. Crowley wanted to feel good and wanted to make Aziraphale happy for making him feel good. He'd never slept with a snake, though. He'd always _been_ the snake.

“Fine," Crowley sighed. He attempted to slither onto his feet and only made it halfway before his newly-added weight had him plopping back down on his arse.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched.

“Shut it.” Crowley shoved himself to standing and rolled his spine. “Your corporation is stiff as anything, dunno how you manage. You should try slouching every now and again, maybe stretch twice a week.” He stalked up to Aziraphale and chivvied him onto the black sheets with hands on his currently-skinny shoulders. “I can feel how tense you are. What have you got to be stressed about? You’re retired.”

“I’m not sure ‘retired’ is the correct term for what we are.” He allowed himself to be manhandled onto the end of the bed with Crowley behind him. When Crowley dug his thumbs into his trapezius, he sighed like he’d just taken a sip of spiked hot cocoa. It was not as innocent as Aziraphale liked to pretend.

“Retired, excommunicated. Toh-may-toh, toh-mah-toh,” Crowley sing-songed.

Aziraphale snorted and tilted his head forward. “You’re quite good with my hands, dear.”

“Your hands are made for giving massages.”

“Is that a hint?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Though, if you’re ever overcome with the urge to give me a massage I wouldn’t complain.”

“I shall keep that in mind.”

Crowley rubbed circles into the back of his neck, his hands seeming to move without thought, as if they knew what they wanted to touch. He worked out a knot of muscle and Aziraphale hummed, arching his back. That sinuous movement did something interesting to his corporation. Crowley shifted, feeling warm. 

“Just melt into it, you said?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said roughly, then cleared his throat. “You kind of – condense yourself and stretch out at the same time. It’ll feel odd at first without limbs. If you hate it, don’t panic; I’ll help you switch back. Actually, come here.”

“What?”

“Lie on your stomach. Might help you get in the right mindset.”

After rearranging himself, Aziraphale turned his head to speak over his shoulder. “Now what?”

“Can I take off your clothes?”

“The clothes you’re wearing or the ones I’m wearing?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and tugged on Aziraphale’s black shirt. “The ones you’re wearing.”

“Permission granted.”

Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale was nude, the bumps of Crowley’s long, knobby spine catching the candlelight.

“In a rush, are we?”

“What do I look like, a saint?” Crowley snarked, recalling Aziraphale's words from centuries ago when Crowley had found him charming some no good, brown-nosing cobra. He straddled Aziraphale’s hips, ignoring his grumbling, and placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulder blades. With his thumbs on either side of his spine, he slid his hands down until they reached his arse and then slid them back up again.

It was a bit odd, touching his own corporation like this. Their corporations weren't their actual bodies, but after six thousand years the line between the two started to get fuzzy. Despite that, it was _Aziraphale_ in there, and Crowley loved touching Aziraphale. 

“Oooh.” Aziraphale wriggled, in a very Aziraphale-fashion. He nudged his pert arse against Crowley’s starting-to-get-the-hint crotch.

Crowley grunted and ground down a little, through the tan trousers, and kept skimming his hands up and down Aziraphale’s back. “Imagine your spine lengthening. Imagine having no arms or legs, a simpler form.”

Under his hands, Aziraphale shivered lightly and then fell still as he concentrated.

“You’re a long, curling creature, feeling the earth vibrate with life beneath you. When you flick out your tongue you can taste the air and it guides you. Your body bends and ripples. The sun warms the scales on your back while your belly glides over the earth, the world towering over you.”

As he spoke, he could feel Aziraphale’s breathing slow, could see black scales shyly rise to the surface of his skin. His body molded like putty, morphing into something narrow and long as his arms merged with his torso and his flaming hair melted into his scales. His face blurred and reformed flat and broad and reptilian.

“That’s it, angel.” He continued to stroke him, Aziraphale’s body now a warm, smooth column as the last of his human features disappeared. “How do you feel?” he asked the serpent in his bed.

For a moment, Aziraphale squirmed and flailed, almost rolling over in distress. “Thissss issss very odd.”

Crowley let his hands fall away, giving him space to get used to his new shape. “You okay?”

A long hiss was the only answer at first, his body curling and stretching ineffectively against the sheets. Crowley gripped his thighs and resisted the urge to bundle him against his chest. Once he’d untangled himself, Aziraphale managed to lift his head and look at him.

Snakes didn’t have the most expressive of faces, making them frankly unnerving opponents in staring contests. Fortunately, Crowley could sense Aziraphale as easily as he had when he’d possessed Madame Tracy, his angelic aura exuding a flustered bewilderment.

“Okay in there?” he repeated.

“I can’t clossse my eyesss.”

“Yeah, blinking’s not really a thing for snakes, sorry.”

Aziraphale’s tongue flickered out. “I can _tassste_ you.” He raised up on the bed so they were eye-level, toxic yellow glowing from midnight scales.

Crowley wiped his hands on his trousers. Okay, that was pretty hot. “You can sense body heat, too.”

Aziraphale’s head swayed slowly in the air as he took in his new senses. It was almost hypnotic. He'd forgotten how powerful his snake form looked, how the muscles rippled and the scales shimmered. That long, coiling body was capable of downright sinful contortions. And now Aziraphale had control of it. 

“You look good in scales,” Crowley offered with a careless grin.

“Really?”

His fangs flashed and Crowley’s breath caught. Aziraphale’s corporation really liked the look of those. “Yeah.”

“Goodnessss.” Aziraphale swayed closer, his tongue flicking in and out. “I can feel your heart pounding from here.”

With hands that longed to touch those smooth scales, Crowley instead reached up to undo his – Aziraphale's – bowtie, which felt like it too had transformed into a snake. One of the constrictor variety.

Aziraphale swayed even closer, eyes burning. “My fangsss are aching.”

Heaven, that was hot. The bowtie fell gracelessly to the floor, shirt buttons undoing themselves in self-preservation to avoid Crowley’s fumbling attempts. “It’s the venom.”

A warm snout nuzzled Crowley’s neck, forked tongue tickling his pulse, and Crowley gasped. His head fell back along with most of his reservations. Oh, this was going to be _good_.

Aziraphale explored the shape of his jaw, the line of his carotid artery, the hollow at the base of his throat. Crowley bit his lip and shivered, his fingers skittering over Aziraphale’s scales.

Arousal felt different in this corporation. It was warmer, somehow, suffusing his whole body, heat in his cheeks and down his chest and between his legs. When Aziraphale nudged into the collar of his shirt, he shucked it like it was on fire.

It was impossible to resist squeezing his soft, plump tummy while Aziraphale crept onto his shoulders. He adored Aziraphale’s body and now he was _in_ it and already hard enough to distend Aziraphale’s impeccably tailored trousers.

Perched around the back of Crowley’s neck, Aziraphale was a long line of heat down his back, his tail wrapping seductively around Crowley’s thigh. “I never realisssed how comfy I am.”

Crowley shook, unfamiliar with this particular brand of arousal, unable to hide his reactions like he could in his own corporation. His legs felt like liquid, his hands restless against his belly, his skin prickling everywhere Aziraphale touched. “Angel.”

“Oh, my dear, why don’t you lie down and let me take care of you.”

That sounded like a terrific idea, and Crowley collapsed onto the mattress with a groan, cradled in Aziraphale’s warmth. Ophidiophobics didn’t know what they were missing. “You feel…fantastic.”

“Ssssso do you.” Aziraphale swept his tail up between his legs. “Divine, even.”

Crowley’s hips rolled, little shocks zipping down his spine. He tried to think of a comeback for that. “ _Ngh_ —” he got out, and attacked his trousers and underthings instead, the seams creaking ominously. Aziraphale gave a warning hiss in his ear and his heart clenched with a strange combination of fear and arousal.

“Careful! Treat my clothing with sssome ressspect, thank you.”

“Sorry,” he gasped, and managed to kick them off with an embarrassing amount of tangling but no tears. Finally bare, he groped his own thighs, feeling half drunk. He was both touching Aziraphale and being touched by Aziraphale and it was driving him insane.

“Ssslow down, dear.” Having gotten the hang of things, Aziraphale smoothly looped himself around Crowley’s body, trapping his arms to his sides. That kind of restraint would normally frustrate him, but his borrowed corporation was more than pleased. With every wriggle, Aziraphale squeezed tighter and Crowley grew more desperate. Wriggle, squeeze – _zing_ of arousal. His – Aziraphale’s – prick was stiff and proud between his legs, his breaths short and quick, need blossoming hot and heavy in his pelvis.

“Aziraphale, this is…I mean…” His head tilted back, nails digging into his own thighs as Aziraphale licked at his throat. “Wow.”

Aziraphale gave a hissing giggle and grazed his fangs over Crowley’s windpipe. “You like thisss?”

His back arched, that thrill-arousal spiking when the blunt side of a fang pressed into his skin. “You know I do,” he panted. “Do that thing you like, with your knee.”

“Oh, yesss.” With the tip of his tail, Aziraphale painted teasing circles on the inside of Crowley’s knee, his canvas jumping with each stroke.

Crowley sucked in a breath, pleasure shooting up his spine and sparking behind his eyes. “Oh, _fuck_.” So _that’s_ what that felt like. His legs fell open, begging, and the circles spiraled up his inner thigh, hotter with every inch. “ _Fuck_ ,” he whimpered again, so turned on it hurt and half certain he was going to come before Aziraphale even touched his cock.

“I know everything you like,” Aziraphale realized, sounding gleeful and a tad smug, and darted his tongue against the tight bud of his nipple.

“You – fiend,” he gasped, raising the pitch of his voice in imitation.

Aziraphale clucked at him. “I don’t sssound like that.” He flicked his other nipple.

“You _do_.” His tail dragged higher and Crowley gritted his teeth, groaning as his cock pulsed and dripped. “ _Ah_ , just bite me already.”

“Patiencssse, my dear.”

Crowley gave another heartfelt groan and writhed against his scaled bonds, hardly able to move an inch, which did nothing to soothe his need. “You like torturing me. Not very angelic.”

With a thoughtful hum, Aziraphale used his strong coils to force Crowley’s legs further apart. Crowley panted and scrabbled at his scales, and Aziraphale rose over him to lick at his parted lips. “Only becausse you enjoy it ssso much, my love.”

Like the delicate tip of a tongue, Aziraphale’s tail drew a line up the seam of his balls and then along the underside of his cock.

Crowley went rigid, his eyes rolling back. The roiling heat and pressure inside of him surged like a flaring volcano. The tail tip circled the head of his cock before sliding back down and he erupted, air expelling itself harshly from his lungs as his legs spasmed and his back arched. Orgasm felt different in this corporation, softer and yet terrifyingly deep, like his entire soul were lit up in ecstasy. 

“Angel, angel, fuck—”

Aziraphale held him down, squeezed him tight, squeezed every shiver and moan out of him.

He should have expected it; he’d done it to Aziraphale often enough, but the orgasm had rattled his brain. He was too awash in bliss to remember what normally came after the first orgasm, what the entire point of this body swap was. They weren’t nearly done yet.

Just as the peak was beginning to recede, Aziraphale murmured, “Sssharp pinch,” and sank his fangs into the side of his neck.

Crowley’s breath stopped, shocked by the jab of pain. The next second he sucked in a chest-full of air. “Oh, sweet fucking Chr—”

Venom pumped into his veins, filling every corner and crevasse of his being with sweet, floating pleasure and a burning lust. His mind went hazy with it, his bones went liquid, and his cock jerked against Aziraphale’s scales, painting them again as another orgasm was wrenched out of him.

“ _Angel_ —”

“I’ve got you, dearessst,” he said shakily, and Crowley realized he was rubbing against Crowley’s hip, his scales shimmering as he squeezed and rippled over his body.

Instead of coming down, the pleasure pulsed through him insistently, making his skin prickle with urgency. He thought of all the times he had done this to Aziraphale, now understanding viscerally why he had always writhed and sobbed for more. He wanted Aziraphale closer, everywhere, until he couldn’t take it any longer. 'Overwhelming' didn't even cover it. “For the love of _somebody_ , fuck me.”

Aziraphale made a scandalized noise that was half-hearted at best and absolutely filthy at worst and nudged his tail between Crowley’s arse cheeks. “Bossssy.”

Crowley’s nails dug into his scales. Aziraphale hissed and pushed against his hole, which flared and clutched at him desperately. “ _Your fault_.”

“You’re welcome,” he said prissily, and eased inside.

Crowley’s hips bucked, taking him in, the slick stretch setting off fireworks in the base of his spine and behind his eyes. “ _Guh_.”

The venom intensified every sensation, made every shift and nudge crackle through him like lightning. He was practically sobbing as Aziraphale pressed in deeper, deeper, splitting him open until he reached his sweet spot. Like a curious tentacle, he massaged his prostate lightly, rubbing little circles over the ball of nerves as if he were trying to soothe him. Of course, this did the exact opposite. A mangled string of noises tumbled from Crowley’s mouth, his corporation overtaken by a writhing frenzy as his toes curled and his legs shook and his cock pulsed between their bellies.

“You’re lovely,” Aziraphale sighed, sounding half out of his mind, nuzzling obsessively against his jaw and cheek and neck. He withdrew his tail and pushed in again, hitting his prostate with unerring accuracy. “Doesssn’t thisss feel lovely?”

“ _Holy shit_ —" His hips circled mindlessly, fucking himself onto that slick, hard tail. His pelvic and abdominal muscles clenched deep and slow and hard, a positive feedback loop that surged with each thrust. “Hngg—” he managed, and spilled messily between them once again.

“Oh, _Crowley_.” Aziraphale licked at his lips and slithered against his cock until he couldn’t contain a confused noise of pain and pleasure, wanting more and less at the same time. Breathing heavily, fangs glinting, Aziraphale eased off, loosening his hold.

“Wha—no,” Crowley stuttered, grabbing at him.

“I’d quite like you on your handsss and kneesss, my dear.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He took a moment to lie there panting, shivering at every brush of air against his over-heated skin. Around him, his industrially styled room appeared brighter, more vibrant, his pupils blown wide and taking in extra light. At last, at Aziraphale’s urging, he summoned the energy to turn over and get his knees under him. Aziraphale was wrapped around his torso in a full-body hug, his tongue tickling his ear and his tail dangling teasingly between his legs. His arms shook, forcing him to summon a demonic miracle to lock them in place. “How’s this?”

“Perfect. You tassste just sscrumptiousss, my dear.”

Crowley shook again, pleased and embarrassed. “Stop it.”

“Never, my love. Now, be a dear and change your genitalsss, won’t you? I’d quite like to try ssomething.”

Crowley dropped his head between his arms. “Please don’t say ‘genitals’ while we’re fucking.”

“Pleasse don’t sssay ‘fucking’ while we’re making love.”

“For Hell’s—"

“How did you make that delightful rattle when we were in India?”

Irritation forgotten, Crowley made a new Effort so fast he nearly came again from the demonic tingling. His clit was brought into existence swollen and aching, heat deep in his pelvis and excitement bubbling inside him. “I just sort of willed it.”

“Hm, let’ss sssee…” Aziraphale went still as he focused, the long length of him warm and electrifying wrapped around Crowley’s body.

The venom made Crowley restless and needy, and he shifted impatiently, trying to rub against those warm scales, trying to get some sort of friction. There was a swelling of angelic power between his legs and Crowley whimpered and arched his back, heat ballooning in his cunt.

“C’mon, angel.”

“One moment, I think – ah, yesss, I’ve got it.”

Head hanging, Crowley looked down his borrowed body to where Aziraphale’s rattle – Heaven, that was thick – was poised inches from his clit. The rattle began to shake and Crowley had to bite back another whimper. “Oh, fuck.”

“I’ll get to that,” Aziraphale said smugly, and pressed his vibrating tail against Crowley’s inner thigh.

“ _Ngh_ – you tease.” Crowley’s knees slipped and his hands clenched in the sheets, his hips swaying in the air as Aziraphale crept up his thigh. Dignity was a long-forgotten concept. “Ah, God, Satan, _please_.”

“Watch your language,” Aziraphale tutted, and nudged his rattle against Crowley’s clit.

Eyes slamming shut, Crowley pressed his face into a pillow to muffle the embarrassing noises he couldn’t contain. The vibrations were intense and exactly what he needed, pleasure knife-sharp and exquisite between his legs, in his very core. His hips jerked, muscles clenching as he rubbed against the hard, vibrating length and then away, only to press back again like an addict. He could feel his cunt clenching around nothing, dripping wet and slicking Aziraphale’s tail with his arousal. He was no longer capable of words, only desperate, choked cries as the vibrations went on and on, Aziraphale chasing him every time he shied away.

“That’sss it, dear heart,” Aziraphale gasped, squeezing him everywhere, pressing hard between his legs. “Take it, take your pleasssure. I know you can.”

Crowley bit the pillow and wailed. The pleasure swelled, unstoppable, his entire world narrowed to the sizzling electricity and pressure in his pelvis, the vibrations in his clit like a live wire straight to his brain. His throat closed around a sob as it overtook him, as his hips jumped and the pillow grew damp under his face. Aziraphale held him through his thrashing.

“One more,” Aziraphale croaked, and eased his rattle into Crowley’s cunt.

He lacked the breath to scream, so he wheezed and shook around each fat rib that stretched him open. Forehead pressed to the pillow, he peered blurrily at Aziraphale’s tail disappearing inside of him, felt scales glide across his skin as Aziraphale brought his head between Crowley’s legs. Yellow eyes glowed up at him briefly, love and lust and smugness exuding from Aziraphale’s very essence, and then that forked tongue was flickering against his abused clit.

Crowley had never blacked out from pleasure before, but there was a first for everything, he thought dazedly, his vision going fuzzy around the edges. Aziraphale fucked him like everything else he did: slowly and methodically and with a single-minded focus. The rattle pressed everything inside him just right, while Aziraphale licked at him like a popsicle and slid a thick length of himself between Crowley’s arse cheeks to rub against his hole. Crowley’s vocal cords ached with a moan that he didn’t have the air for; he’d stopped breathing at some point.

He collapsed to his chest, arse in the air, as his entire body was overtaken with spasms, muscles clenching and heaving their pleasure. It was a right spectacle, he was sure. His eyes rolled back and his mouth went slack as his spine curled and his hips jerked and Aziraphale fucked him right through it.

“ _Unggg_ —" It was almost an out-of-body experience, as Crowley pondered how an orgasm this good was even possible. He was a bit jealous, honestly, that Aziraphale had been enjoying this somewhat regularly for six thousand years. Then another set of tremors shook through him and he collapsed on the mattress, limbs splayed and twitching.

For a small eternity he simply existed, breathing through the shocks of pleasure, floating softly down from the breathtaking peak of the Everest of orgasms to somewhere just above the clouds. He was pretty sure he wasn’t even done yet. He realized he’d lost count of how many times Aziraphale had made him come and snickered into the pillow.

“What isss it?”

He shook his head, too spent to respond.

There was a disgruntled hiss and lots of wriggling. “You’re sssquishing me, you fiend.”

He grunted and lifted himself just enough for Aziraphale to slither out from under him. There was a shiver of power through the room and then a lanky body draped over his back. There was also a very insistent erection poking his arse.

“Have I finally managed to vanquish you?” Aziraphale murmured against his neck, lips brushing the fresh bite. “After all these years?”

Crowley shivered and nudged his hips up. He knew from experience how incredible it felt to grind against this plush arse. “Down, but not out, angel. Gimme a mo’.”

Breath coming fast, Aziraphale stroked his sides and kissed his shoulder and swayed his hips, rubbing into the cleft of Crowley’s arse. “Don’t be lazy, dear.”

His eyes flashed open. “Oh, that’s how it is?”

He could _feel_ Aziraphale pouting. “I’ll have you know your corporation is very impatient and I’m finding it quite difficult to—"

Gathering a miraculous spur of energy, Crowley pushed up, sending Aziraphale toppling onto the mattress at his side with a yelp. He crawled over to cage him in his arms and legs, then smiled sweetly down at him, looking into yellow eyes with pupils that were nearly round. “I think _you’re_ the one who’s impatient.”

Aziraphale’s hands darted automatically for Crowley’s arse, and, yeah, that was all Aziraphale. “I’m in a demon’s body, there’s only so much virtuousness I can hold onto.”

“There you go, blaming my corporation again.” Feeling devious, Crowley buried a hand in Aziraphale’s fiery hair and pulled, tilting his head back to expose his throat. Aziraphale made a strangled sound, nails digging into his skin, his eyes rolling back just slightly. “Yeah, I know what you like, too, angel.”

Ducking his head, Crowley sweetly attacked his neck, licking and nipping and sucking at that particularly sensitive spot under his ear. Aziraphale arched and groaned and clutched at him, his long, skinny legs tangling with his.

“Is it narcissistic if I still find you unbearably sexy like this?”

“Probably,” Aziraphale gasped, pulling him closer. “But you are rather, oh what’s the word – slipping?”

Crowley paused mid-lick, then sucked his tongue back into his mouth. “Tripping. Are you saying I need to be high to find myself sexy?”

Aziraphale wriggled unhappily, trying to push his neck back within licking reach. “Of course not, your sexiness is a universal constant, but it _is_ rather odd, being swapped like this.”

Ruffled feathers smoothed, Crowley resumed the neck kisses. “What about you?” he murmured by Aziraphale’s ear, his thumbs applying light pressure to his throat. Just the right amount to add a thrill of danger to the lust.

Aziraphale bucked, rubbing himself against Crowley’s belly like some mindless beast. His voice was mostly breath. “What about me?”

“Do you still find me sexy like this?”

“Oh, I mean, that’s not really—"

Amusement bubbled up inside him, a sparkling companion to the simmering lust and the venom’s high. He pulled back to grin down at him. “You _do_.”

Aziraphale whined, trying to clutch him closer. “Come back.”

“Admit it. Admit you find yourself sexy.”

A hint of petulance flickered across his face. “So you can accuse me of vanity?”

Smile fading, Crowley kissed him, licking at his forked tongue and carefully avoiding his sharp eyeteeth. Once Aziraphale was limp and moaning, he pressed a kiss to his cheek, another to the bridge of his nose, another to his forehead. “It’s not vanity to appreciate a work of art. I’d be concerned if you _didn’t_ find me sexy like this.”

“Oh, Crowley.” His reptilian eyes went unbearably soft. If it were possible, Crowley knew they’d be damp. “Would you _please_ fuck me now?”

Still feeling floaty and happy and loved, Crowley was more than ready to go again. “Nah. I’ll make love to you, though.”

Crowley really liked Aziraphale’s thighs. He’d even go so far as to say he adored them, to an almost indecent degree. So he knew what would happen when he lowered himself to lie flush against Aziraphale, reached back to tuck Aziraphale’s erection up between his thighs, and squeezed.

Aziraphale bowed under him, his hips snapping up automatically. “Oh, good Lord.” He thrust into the slick, tight channel of Crowley’s legs while his hands clutched at Crowley’s hips and his mouth dropped open. “Oh, _Crowley_.”

Yeah, that was the ticket. “You like that?”

“You know I –”

Crowley tugged on his hair again and Aziraphale moaned, loud and unashamedly, and proceeded to fuck up with sharp, shivery jerks of the hips. His eyelashes fluttered, sending a confused shot of lust through Crowley at the sight of Aziraphale’s pleasure written so plainly on his own face. He kissed him hard, almost roughly, clenching his thighs together and swaying his hips to rub himself against Aziraphale’s cock.

It felt like a tease, like it couldn’t possibly be enough, but he was deliciously sensitive, and the mewling cries Aziraphale was spilling into his mouth ignited sparks in his cunt. If he tilted his hips just right, he could get a brilliant, glancing friction against his clit.

“Oh, fuck, _yes_ , angel, ohhh—"

Aziraphale wound his arms and legs around him, like a snake trying to wrap around its mate. The serpentine embrace allowed for no more than tight jerks against each other, desperate for all the friction available in the few scant inches they could move. Somehow, the restriction made it better, and they panted each other’s air as they shivered and shifted together.

Every half a decade or so, Crowley would spend a day lazing in his room watching porn just to keep himself abreast of all the lewd and sometimes horrifying things humans got up to. It was one of the less glamorous tasks in a demon’s job description. The sounds he was making now would belong quite nicely in some of the over-produced, air-brushed variety. This would have been unbearably embarrassing if Aziraphale watched porn, but he didn’t; he just read it.

“Oh, fuck, oh _oh_!”

Aziraphale made a whimpering sound that Crowley had never heard his voice do before, and then he shuddered, his grip crushing the air from Crowley’s lungs. His seed spilled hot over Crowley’s arse and the backs of his thighs, and then his teeth dug into Crowley’s neck. Hips swivelling, Crowley swore and moaned pornographically as another orgasm crashed over him. Clit sparking, cunt clenching, he felt dizzy with pleasure, everything going blurry and spinny and tilty. For a moment he honestly thought he’d discorporated, and had the detached thought that he wouldn’t want to go any other way.

It took looking up into Aziraphale’s face – his actual face, not Crowley’s face – for him to realize that they’d swapped back by accident. He reached up and fluttered his fingertips over the fresh bite on the side of his neck. Another for his collection.

“Oh.”

Aziraphale smiled woozily and shivered. Crowley’s arms tightened around him, rejoicing in his familiar curves and folds and softness. It felt like coming home.

“Premature corporation ejection, how embarrassing,” Aziraphale said, and wriggled until he was tucked against Crowley’s side. “My, I gave you quite a bite, didn’t I?”

“I see how it is. I get bitten and you get to enjoy the high.”

“We could swap back.”

“Nah, I wanna sleep and I doubt your corporation even knows how.” He closed his eyes.

There was a quiet huff, and then much jostling of the mattress as Aziraphale prodded him until he could snuggle under Crowley’s arm. Eyes still shut, Crowley smiled wide enough to show teeth.

It was a short-lived thing, which morphed into a grimace when Aziraphale said, with smugness that made Crowley’s ears tingle, “So. Hair pulling, hm?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

“What list?”

“Our sex list. I update it regularly.”

“Of course you do,” he said dryly, as if he weren’t filled with a burning desire to hunt that list down right that second. Well, maybe after a nap. “Better add bondage, too. Your corporation almost lost it when you squeezed me like a first edition Wilde.”

“I’d never squeeze a—!” He cut himself off when Crowley snickered and his voice changed to his mimicking voice. “There you go, blaming my corporation—”

Crowley twisted fast, his arms constricting around him before he could finish, but not fast enough to stop the little giggle that burst out with the last of Aziraphale’s air. With a valiant wriggle, Aziraphale freed an arm enough to reach up, tangle his fingers in Crowley’s hair, and tug. Crowley arms unwound and he groaned.

“Feisty, angel.”

“You enjoyed it though? This…experiment of ours?”

Crowley opened one eye. “Loved it,” he admitted.

Aziraphale beamed. “I’ll add it to the list, as well.”

“Great. Now _shhh_. Sleeping.”

Aziraphale cuddled closer and grunted. “Gosh, I did a number on you.”

“ _Sleeping_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I'm on [Tumblr](https://notesoflore.tumblr.com/) too.


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